Whenever Tonto shows up at a hunt meet, people notice.

“I got a lot of comments, especially in the more prestigious hunts. People would always look at him at first, and say, ‘Where on earth did you get that thing?’ and look down their noses a bit. But after hunting behind or near him for a few minutes, they’d say, ‘Wow, where did you find him?’ ” said owner Katherine Welden.

Tonto, a diminutive, oddly conformed, pinto Walking Horse, isn’t anyone’s idea of the typical hunt horse. But he carried Welden through 10 seasons of hard hunting with packs such as Live Oak (Fla.), Midland (Ga.) and Mooreland (Ala.) “He loved to be in front, and he’d always be there at the end of the day,” said Welden.

“I earned my colors from Midland and Live Oak on him, and I wish there were a way we could put them on him, because he’s the one who really deserves them,” she said.

“He really is the horse of a lifetime, even though I didn’t think it at first,” added Welden. “I’m so lucky to have had him. He made me feel safe. He’s like a person, like having your grandfather watching over you all the time.”

It wasn’t really until her last season hunting Tonto that Welden came to realize just what an impact he’d made on her life. “He was always kind of there, doing his job, and I took him for granted a lot,” she said. “My last season on him was the 2001-02 season, and my last hunt on him was in March 2002, with Midland. I had to stop hunting after that because I was pregnant.

“I’d already arranged for him to go out on lease, but where I could still go and visit him. I remember going to his stall and patting him and thinking, ‘Wow, what an amazing season.’ I’d ridden him in every single hunt, and I hunted more that season than I’d ever hunted. I thought about this meet with Hillsboro [Tenn.], where it was pouring rain. We got to the end, and there were only five people left in first flight, and I was one of them.

“We’d jumped all kinds of jumps, and gone through all kinds of country. And he’d never slowed down. I did things I never thought I’d be doing, at speeds I never thought I could go. Here I was, looking at this horse who’d carried me so safely and well all season. He was 22 at that point, and I thought, ‘I am so lucky.’ “

He May Be Ugly, But He Can Jump

Tonto’s hunting career began purely by accident, however. Welden’s parents owned a shooting plantation in Tallahassee, Fla., and they bought Tonto in 1988 as a shooting pony for her mother.

“It was right at the time that Spotted Walking Horses, or spotted shooting ponies, as they sometimes called them, were getting very popular down there,” said Welden. “So, it was a big deal that he was a paint. The whole attitude then was ‘find a spotted horse, then see what it can do.’ “

Welden’s mother’s enthusiasm for riding Tonto faded quickly, though, and he became the horse they used for guests who wanted to go out shooting with her father.

Welden had grown up showing hunters and jumpers on the A-rated circuit, but in 1991, her father told her she should go foxhunting to see where the roots of showing originated. He had a friend who hunted with Live Oak, so Welden’s first hunt was Live Oak’s Thanksgiving meet. She hunted a borrowed horse and fell in love with the sport.

“In the course of a week, we looked through the Chronicle, found a horse that was marketed as a foxhunter, and bought him from Virginia. He arrived, and we discovered that he was scared to death of dogs. We took him out one day to exercise the bird dogs, and he panicked.

“I went storming back to the barn, threw that horse in the stall, and the only horse I saw out in the pasture was Tonto. He was this little, short horse with four mixed legs, a nasty, huge head, and at the time he was so dirty he was orange and black, not white and black.

“I threw the tack on him, including his western bridle with a bit with a four-inch port and six-inch shanks. And I go back out to catch upto the group. He was a walking horse, but I’m kicking him, so he’s trotting, so I was encouraged.

“Right as we got 20 yards away from the group, we came to a log, and he jumped it. Everybody stopped and looked. The barn manager, said ‘Oh, yeah, that horse jumps. Ugliest horse in the barn, but he jumps.’

“So, I’m out there aiming for every log and fallen tree, jumping everything. He’s doing it all. And I’m thinking, ‘This horse will hunt. Even if he can’t jump them, he’ll climb over them.’ “

Welden took Tonto for her next outing with Live Oak, the New Year’s meet.

“The very first coop we got to, I swear to God, was 3’9” or 4′. My heart stopped, and I thought, ‘Oh my God, what have I done?’ Someone said, ‘Get right behind me, kick, close your eyes and grab mane. I’ll see you on the other side.’

“Tonto got there, and he jumped it in absolutely perfect form, and galloped away on the other side, and I had a smile from ear to ear. We were on a big coyote run that day, and he was right there through the whole day, foot-perfect. And that was that,” Welden recalled.

Between 1991 and 2002, Tonto hunted for 10 seasons and earned the respect of all who knew him. “I went on a joint meet with Midland and Hillsboro, and it was a nasty day. Tonto was by far the smallest horse there. Someone said, ‘That little horse doesn’t look like it can hunt.’ And Ben Hardaway turned around and said, ‘That horse is nicer than anything in your barn,’ ” recalled Welden.

Tonto Knows

Tonto might not have been the most elegant mount, but he more than made up for his looks with his heart and competence across country.

“He knew everything about it. Even on his very first hunt, he would stand and listen for the hounds, and his ears would show where the pack was. It was great for me, especially learning to hunt, because I understood, from a very early time, about the huntsman speaking to the hounds and the hounds speaking,” Welden said.

“I learned the different calls of the horn because he was the kind of horse that could tell you where the hounds were. I feel like he allowed me to learn all that. Even on the big runs, he always knew where the hounds were. At the end of a really long run, if we would start passing a hound or two, he would get very upset. If we came across a hound, Tonto would treat it like another horse–he’d give it fair space and be behind the hound, paying attention.”
Tonto’s biggest strength was his reliability. “He’s carried a lot of people on their first hunts. If I had a friend who wanted to ride, I’d throw them up on him. We joked that you could strap a baby on him, and they’d still be there at the end of the hunt. I took him for granted for a long time,” said Welden.

But after Welden had a few falls in the field with a horse who had an alarming tendency to fall down while galloping, she appreciated Tonto’s steadfastness all the more.

“I got a little scared. For about six months after that, Tonto was the only thing I’d ride. He always kept me safe. It’s like he had a sixth sense for holes, and he’d know if there was a low branch, and he’d try to get you away from it. He’d make hairpin turns around trees, and you’d never have to worry about your knees, because he knew how to do it without hurting you. And if you got to a jump, you were going over it, no matter what,” she said.

Tonto also accompanied Welden to college; she attended the University of the South (Tenn.) from 1993 to ’97. He quickly became a favorite ride for her fellow students in the Intercollegiate Horse Shows Association, despite his distaste for ring work.

But Tonto wasn’t the easiest horse to ride. “His trot and his canter both are uncomfortable. His trot is up-and-down choppy; it can jar your teeth out. And if you hold his face while you’re trying to do the sitting trot, he goes into a running walk. He has a huge, long, sprawled-out canter stride, but it has this big hump in the middle of it that shakes your teeth,” Welden said.

It was during those school years that Tonto survived his first colic surgery. Welden shipped him home to her parents’ plantation so that she could hunt him between Thanksgiving and New Years. In December 1996, he colicked badly and needed surgery, but the veterinarians were able to fix his herniated intestine. Tonto bounced back from the surgery without problem.

Not Done Yet

But on the New Year’s hunt in 2001, Tonto colicked again. Welden had noticed that he was quiet that morning, but he was still eager to hunt. But after a four-hour run on a coyote, in which Tonto never left the front of the field, his knees buckled in pain when they got back to the trailers.

“When he was in surgery, they said there was no way he was going to make it. Where they’d fixed the herniated intestine before had died, but they fixed it again. He was in recovery, and the doctor called my parents and said, ‘This horse is amazing. He’s already up, and I think he’s going to make it.’

“Two weeks later, he came home. For the longest time, his belly was very distended, and we never thought he’d go back to work. We honestly thought that he’d had a great life, and he could live out in the field forever,” she said.

But eight months later, Welden found herself without a horse to hunt. She was then living in Atlanta, Ga., while Tonto was living the good life on the plantation in Tallahassee. A friend had been hacking him lightly, and suggested that he might be up for hunting again. Welden shipped him north and got him fit again.

“His very first hunt was the Shamrock [Ga.] opening meet. I made a mistake, and just had him in a plain, fat snaffle. He was 21 at the time, and when they cantered off, he turned himself inside out bucking. For the rest of the day, he went nonstop. For the rest of the year, I hunted three times a week, with Midland first flight, and he thrived on it. I went everywhere; if there was a place to hunt, I went,” said Welden.

And the little horse that Welden had taken for granted for so many years proved himself to her yet again. “I remember that year, Live Oak had a big joint meet with Mooreland, and there were two hunts in three days. On the night between hunts, putting him to bed, it finally started sinking in to me how important he was to me. I knew he was fine, but I was always worried that he’d colic again.

“I remember going back to the barn and almost slept in his stall, because I was so paranoid about him. I went back to the hotel and couldn’t sleep; all I could think about was him, and if he was OK. I got there at 4 a.m., and there he was, eating breakfast, happy as a clam. I was so excited,” she said.

Since her last season on Tonto, Welden has taken some time off to raise her family. Tonto, now 24, spent the 2002-03 hunt season teaching young riders the ropes in the hunting field. He’s now back at her parents’ plantation in Tallahassee. Welden hopes to ride him when she gets back into riding, and she’s not ruling out a few slower days behind hounds in their future.